


It's All Because of Those Eyes

by Bremol



Category: Dallas (TV 1978)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-02 00:19:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10933047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bremol/pseuds/Bremol
Summary: Ellie reflects on what it was that first drew her to Clayton and what followed after.





	It's All Because of Those Eyes

It had to have been the warm brown of his eyes that attracted me to him. His unexpected goodbye kiss, shocked me, but those eyes of his had captured me long before that day outside Southfork as we said goodbye.

I never intended to even consider getting serious with another man after Jock died; he’d been my world for so long. I’d gone out on a few dates with a very nice man, Frank Crutcher, but I never felt anything more for him that mere friendship and gratitude for his being so kind to a lonely widow. My sons, especially JR, didn’t like the idea of me __dating__ anyone, but that didn’t bother me – then.

When Clayton showed up for JR and Sue Ellen’s wedding, I realized that every chance I got, I was staring into his eyes. What is it about those eyes? Those eyes that often caught me staring and glinted with something unknown, something I didn’t recognize at first.

When he took me up on my invite to visit often, inwardly I smiled because that meant I would get to stare into those beautiful eyes once again, and on a more frequent basis.

I knew that he had been seeing Rebecca Wentworth, and even told him that ours could be nothing more than friendship when I thought he might be getting more serious, but that was nothing more than my fear. Fear of what I knew was happening inside me.

I was falling in love again.

I fought my feelings until the day that he shook sense into me and kept me from falling completely apart in my kitchen after I over-filled my coffee cup. My world was falling apart, and he took charge, turning it right side up again.

When he held me close and tucked my head under his chin, I realized something.

He’d fallen in love with me, too.

And fear once again became a part of me.

All I could think of was what would naturally follow the admittance of our feelings.

Still, the feeling of being wrapped in two very strong arms, and held against a solid chest, was soothing and wonderful. It had been so long since I’d had someone to lean on, that the feeling of safety I felt pushed aside my fear, and I let him take charge as I agreed to let him take me away.

The months we spent traveling weren’t always joyful, my health deteriorated to the point where Clayton had to call in a doctor. It would seem that he hadn’t taken me away soon enough. When I learned of the fire at Southfork, it nearly killed me, but his friend came to see me again, and recommended that Clayton take me out of the country. And take me out of the country he did.

We spent most of our time in Jamaica. I learned a lot about the man while we were there. He has a wonderful sense of humor, and a beautiful laugh. And he can sing. Oh heavens, can the man sing. How did that come about, you may ask. Well, it happened one night when he heard me crying out in my sleep.

I hadn’t been feeling well that day. Another bout with the mental and emotional fatigue I was suffering from. Since Clayton and I were sharing a bungalow, something he had insisted on since my emotional state had worsened after the fire at Southfork, he heard me crying out and came rushing into my room. I don’t really remember much, except that he held me and began to sing to me.

It was the first time we slept together. Slept as in sleep. Making love wasn’t an option at this point in our relationship. I was still too fragile for something that emotionally intense.

The song Clayton sang to me was one I’d heard over the years, but one that told me just exactly how the man holding me felt about me. I knew, or had at least suspected that he’d fallen in love with me, but the words of the song told me just __how much__ he loved me. He never actually looked at me and said, __I love you__ , but he didn’t have to. The way his voice lilted the lyrics, the way he held me, the way his brown eyes darkened, told me all I needed to know.

And was why I was able to relax in his embrace to sleep peacefully for the first time in so long; I’d forgotten what a peaceful slumber felt like.

When I pushed him away because of my fear of how he’d react once he saw me intimately, I saw those same brown eyes fill with a pain that nearly broke me. That day when he came to me, trying to get me to talk to him, the pain in his eyes was so great when I held out his ring, I wanted to take it all back, to throw my arms around him and tell him it wasn’t true. But my fear kept me from doing what I most wanted. I knew that losing him this way would be so much easier than if I let him in completely, because I hadn’t fully let him into my heart and soul yet. If I had done that, then lost him when he realized just how unattractive I was, it would have been more than I could handle.

When I was forced to tell him the truth, I once again saw the pain in his eyes, but it was different this time. It was pain for me and the way I felt about myself. I could see fear that he wouldn’t be able to be what I needed, but I also saw a fierce determination to prove to me that he wouldn’t leave me, no matter what. That he __would__ overcome his fear because his love for me was greater than his fear. I saw in him the man that I had needed after my surgery, but had not found in Jock.

Jock had known the young and attractive body of Eleanor Southworth, the still attractive, if not so young, body of Ellie Ewing, and because of that I couldn’t bring myself to let him see me, or make love to me after the surgery. Even after we’d reconciled, that part of our lives was gone. But with Clayton, after telling him the truth, I knew that I could let him make love to me. He hadn’t known the me before surgery. He would only ever know the me that isn’t whole. And I knew from the way he looked at me, and the way he held me, that everything would be alright.

And right it was.

I tremble just thinking about our wedding night. As I sit here writing and listening to the gentle snores of my husband, I remember with complete clarity the way he lifted me easily into his arms, carrying me over the threshold of our hotel room, gently setting me on my feet by the bed. I watched him as he stood staring down at me, love radiating from his very being. His lips quirked in a smile as he reached up to tuck a wayward lock of hair behind my ear. I sighed at his touch, even though my heart was pounding furiously in my chest. I was nervous, but who wouldn’t be?

I knew the man loved me, but I also knew that I had only been with one other man, and that Clayton had been with other women making him more experienced with relationships than I was. I also still felt some trepidation about him seeing me. He knew what I felt, without even asking, and went about turning all the lights off save one lamp by the bed.

“I’ll light a fire, Ellie. Why don’t you go change for bed,” he had suggested, his eyes never leaving mine. He was giving me the control. We would make love that night only if I felt comfortable enough with it to initiate it myself.

I changed into my nightgown, a soft gown that Donna had bought for me to encourage me on this night. It was nothing unlike those I already owned, just a bit lower in the neckline than I usually wore, but I felt comfortable in it. I took a deep breath and went out into the bedroom to find the fire light the only thing providing illumination to the room and Clayton already in bed. Sensing me, he smiled and held up the covers on my side of the bed, inviting me to join him.

As I slid beneath the blankets, Clayton pulled me into his arms and settled me close, his lips pressing a tender kiss to my head. His chest was bare, and I reveled in the touch of the broad expanse of tanned skin, muscles rippling beneath the warm flesh as I rested against him. Even at his age, he was still physically fit, years of working a ranch to thank for that. I sighed as I lay in the silence of the room, and the warmth of his embrace, knowing that he was willing to just hold me instead of doing what couples usually do on their wedding nights, but knowing that I wanted more than just being held.

“Clayton,” I whispered as I shifted to look up at him. “I’m still scared, but I trust your love for me. Please,” I breathed as I cupped his cheek and titled his face closer to mine.

“There’s no pressure, Ellie,” he assured me. “I do love you, more than I believe I’ve ever loved anyone, but I can wait until you are ready.”

Smiling, I pressed my lips to his, telling him in my kiss so much more than just my words could. “Please,” I whispered again, this time gaining a smile from my husband as he pulled me close for a deeper kiss. I felt his hands caressing me, moving the strap of my nightgown away from my shoulder to place whisper light kisses there. I closed my eyes and willed my heart to stop beating so frantically. The closer he got to uncovering me, the more I had to remind myself that this was Clayton, the man that loved me.

“Easy, Ellie. Remember, no pressure,” he whispered against my ear, pausing to stare down at me.

Smiling up at him, my lips trembling, I nodded. “I know. I want this, Clayton, but I can’t help my fears.”

As he held my gaze, his hands pushed my nightgown down so that my breasts were exposed. Closing my eyes, I waited for his reaction. A sharp intake of breath and then a hot tear splashing against my heated skin caused me to open my eyes. His hand moved to tenderly cup my reconstructed breast as more tears rolled down his cheek and splashed against my skin. This wasn’t the reaction I had expected, or even imagined.

“Clayton?” I asked as I cupped his face in my hands, lifting it so that I could see his eyes.

“Oh Ellie,” it was all he could say as he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close as he warred with the pain I’d seen in his eyes.

“Shh,” I soothed as I cradled his head in one hand, my other gently rubbing his back. I was still stunned by his reaction, but my heart swelled with a deeper love than I’d ever believed existed. When he pulled back and stared down at me, there were still tears in his eyes. His hand once again moved to cup my breast.

“You’re beautiful, Ellie. Don’t ever again doubt that you are,” he breathed just as he lowered his head to kiss the swell of my breast. “This only proves what a fighter you are and the strength you have to get through anything. The pain you’ve carried with you, every time you’ve looked at yourself,” he shook his head. “Never again, Ellie. Never again.”

By the time he’d finished, I was crying. I never dreamed he’d feel my pain so deeply, or even understand, but somehow he had. “How is it that I found you?” I whispered then sniffed, causing him to chuckle.

“Your son, I believe.” Those dark eyes twinkled down at me.

“We’ll have to be sure and thank him.”

“But that can wait,” his deep voice rumbled as he freed us from our clothes. “Now I believe I have a wife to make love to.”

“Mmm,” I murmured, my heart now beating frantically because of the feel of his body against mine. For the first time in years I felt like a whole woman again.

The love that we made was so beautiful that it left me in tears, curled up against his side, my hand held in his. That night, and all the wonderful nights that followed, were filled with more love than I thought possible for a woman my age.

Clayton’s love made me blossom again, made me feel alive and free again. And as I feel him shift beside me, I realize that every day that I’ve had his love is all because of those gorgeous brown eyes of his.


End file.
